What Sammy Needs
by ilikecrystals
Summary: Dean wants to jerk off to some porn but what he finds on Sam's computer changes everything. This story contains Wincest and Spanking so if either squicks you, please don't read. If you read and enjoy, I'd love to hear your thoughts on this. It's been so long since I've written anything that it's rusty and not as hot as I like but I tried. Welcome to my world :)


**##**

He knows he shouldn't have looked. Damn those Busty Asian Beauties! He'd waited until Sam went out to the library, been living in each other's pocket for weeks, and right about now, Dean's ready to blow-

Needs to get a little dick action going and he's just not up to a mindless bar fuck tonight. Nope, tonight it's gonna be just him, his hand and his wonderful little website that never fails to get him off.

He powers up Sam's computer, grabs a beer and sprawls in a chair, jeans already unzipped, and starts to type in the website, when he sees there's already a window opened, minimized but there and that's when Dean realizes the computer was in sleep mode, not shut off.

He clicks on it, _has to_ and what pops up is the last thing Dean expects to see.

Huh.

It's a website called The Spanking Tube and there's a video, the little blinking arrow in the middle teasing him and without thought, he moves the mouse over it and clicks.

The footage is shot at one angle, the sound sucks and the lighting is horrible but he's fascinated, his breath caught in his throat-

There's a tall man, his naked body muscular and slim, his hair a thick dark mop and he's got his back to the camera, waiting.

A command is barked out from off screen, "Bend over."

Dean watches the man lean forward over a chair, spread his legs wide and he wiggles his backside a little in anticipation. Even with the bad lighting, Dean can see it's a really nice ass, cheeks rounded and well-toned, but right now it's taut, clenching slightly and as the other man steps into the scene, Dean can understand why.

He's an older man, small and sturdily built, not fat but he'll get there with a few more years on him. Shiny black PVC pants and no shirt with an obvious toupee crowning his head but that's not what catches Dean's attention, nope. It's the stiff leather strap he's holding, snapping down onto his open palm like a threat, a promise, cracking it into the air and the tall man's bottom clenches more with each sound, each whisper of wind across his white flesh.

Dean immediately realizes it's a BDSM scene but it looks too grainy, too badly filmed to be any kind of commercial movie so that means it's some sort of amateur video and he scratches his head because what the fuck is Sam doing with this on his computer?

The 'Dom' walks over to the splayed out man and rubs a palm across the upturned cheeks, murmurs something and the tall man arches his back, spreads his legs and tilts his ass up more-

The older man draws back his hand and lets the strap fly, the noise a gunshot when it hits skin, and the welt across the white flesh is immediate, devastating, swelling up around the lash.

But the man takes it without a sound, and the next and the next. The spanker stands back and starts whipping fast, slashing the leather back and forth, twisting and rolling his wrist for maximum coverage, striping the man's entire backside dark red and _still_ he doesn't cry out, doesn't even whimper. He's holding himself board-stiff, his body trembling with the effort, Dean can see it.

_Jesus._

Dean wipes a hand across his mouth, can't drag his eyes away from the screen because it's hot as hell, watching the internal struggle, it's gotta hurt like crazy and still the man won't break, won't cry out-

"You will scream. It's just a matter of time." The Dom cuts the strap viciously, thudding across the man's thighs now, his skin a dark mottled red-

"No! Won't! Can't make me!" The voice is guttural, ripped from the depths of his soul, control hung onto by a thread, but the sub's entire body is shaking like he's palsied, each bite of the strap bowing his back, weakening his knees and he's losing it, Dean can see.

He hangs on for twenty more lashes.

And finally, fucking _finally_, the tall man starts crying out with each crack across his flesh and collapses down onto the chair, no strength left and he's almost sobbing.

_Almost._

Not broken, though, not completely.

Dean sees it in the disappointed roll of his shoulders, in the frustrated hang of head, that the tall man's been here before and it's not finishing him, not giving him what he seeks but it's a consolation prize – second best…just enough to take the edge off.

But the man still _wants_. Dean can read him perfectly.

He shakes his head. All that pain and the man still needs more, still needs finishing-

But he's grateful for what he got, even it's it not everything, it's enough and the tall man groans out the words, the shiver of his body delicious as he says what he's supposed to, "Thank you, Sir. God, thank you."

The deep timbre of the voice is low, pleasing and it stirs something in Dean's gut, a flicker of familiar-

The older man moves further into the room, rustles in a closet for something and then closes the door, the mirror on it catching the tall man's face for just a moment before the video ends.

Fuck.

_It's Sam._

##

Dean's gone through every video the poster has put on-line and it's the same person getting their ass whipped in every single one-

There's a message forum, apparently people who want to be spanked try to meet up with people who like to spank. It's there he finds Sam's secret world.

_In Big Springs, Nebraska. Anyone interested?_

_Here in Knife River, Montana. Need to be punished. Gonna be here a few days. Message me._

_Enid, OK in three days. Anyone around to help out a bad boy?_

_Gonna be in Grandville, Iowa in two weeks. Wanna hook up?_

So many towns, so many times Sam's done this.

And the last, posted today:

_Flagstaff, AZ. Really needing it today. Plz Message. Plz._

##

Dean's drunk a six-pack already and still feels way too sober for this. His mind is reeling with all the images of Sam, his Sammy, getting his butt whaled on by strangers and he doesn't even know his brother anymore. This is kinky shit, and the bitch is, it's not sexual, it's just…

It's filling a need. The spanker needs it. So does Sam. Dean just can't wrap his head around it, not all of it. But he can sure wrap his dick around it.

Because, _fuck,_ it's hot as hell, watching his brother take a spanking, watching him almost break, it happens in every video; the spanker takes him to the edge until Sam's practically weeping-

But he doesn't break. Nope, he never breaks completely. That's important, vital and why Sam has to keep _doing_ it.

But why Sam needs to be whipped, Dean has no clue. Yet it doesn't seem to matter to Dean's down below. Nope, on top of all this, Dean's gotta deal with the shame of his own hard-on, may not be sexual on Sam's end but it sure is in Dean's mind. He can't even let the completed thoughts flood through his head, can't even go there because if he does-

_God, that tight ass, getting turned all those beautiful colors and Sammy holding himself so tense, not giving an inch-just like when they're sparring. _His little brother can take so much pain, it makes Dean proud and horny at the same time and what the fuck _is_ this? He's never liked to see Sam in pain, _ever_ – always tried his best to take the pain on himself so his baby brother wouldn't suffer but this-this is a whole new level because Sam's _asking_ for it, he wants it…hell, he _needs_ it. And he begs for more, with each whimper, with every arch of his back, every thrust out of his ass-

And that's hot as fucking shit to little Dean-o down there.

He palms his dick, wonders if anyone's ever spanked Sam's cute little hole or inside his ass cheeks, in his most tender parts. Wonders what implements Sam likes the best and what positions. He's always bent over a chair in his videos but if _Dean_ did it, he'd take Sam over his knee, make it intimate, personal because that's what Sam needs.

He jerks back with a start because what the hell is he _thinking_ 'if he did it'_._ There's no way he can ever tell Sam he knows, much less offer and why the hell does he think he knows what Sam needs?

The only time he's ever spanked Sam was as punishment, because his little brother had made stupid choices, bad decisions and needed to have his judgment re-aligned, needed to be paddled back onto the straight and narrow path but this-

This is necessary, a chasm inside Sam that's far beyond punishment, far beyond the normal '_gonna kick your ass if you don't straighten up, Sammy._"

Yeah, this is soul-filling, gut-wrenching stuff, like Sam has to atone, be brought to his knees because he can't handle who he is, _what_ he is and what he may become, without paying the price in blood and tears.

Dean knows he can help his brother, knows he can be there for Sam like this, fill the need in him but the bitch is gonna be convincing Sam of that…

Because he has to _back_ into it, can't let on like he _knows_ - like he's cool with it, seen the videos and it's no big deal - because Sam will be humiliated, devastated and will probably leave him and Dean can't take that chance.

It _has_ to be Dean, taking care of Sam, owning Sam's ass because to let complete strangers do it, beat on his brother, well, _that's_ not gonna happen anymore because Dean's gonna stop that shit _damn_ quick…

Sam could hook up with a psycho that might want more than spanking, that might end up hurting Sam or killing him and that shuts Dean down, breaks his brain in ways he can't even deal with because that can't happen, never gonna let Sammy be in harm's way like that, no matter what and his little brother's just gonna have to accept that.

So how's Dean gonna work it?

He's still drinking and struggling with his thoughts when Sam's key slides in the door.

Sam walks in, blinks at him and the empty beer cans stacked on the table, and says, "Hey. You okay?"

"Peachy, Sammy." Dean drains another can and adds it to the pile, pops the tab on another.

"What are we drinking to, Dean?" His brother's voice is careful, probing, like Dean's a ticking bomb that may go off at any second.

And that's exactly how Dean feels…the fuse ignited and burning up fast. And he can't help it, snaps at Sam because all of this is his freaking fault.

"It's fucking Tuesday, Sam. I need a reason to drink now? Okay – freaking world peace, is that good enough for ya? It just…doesn't matter a whole helluvalot, ya know?" He exhales a sharp breath, "Anyway, just…what'd you find out?" Dean searches Sam's eyes, trying to see into his soul, see where the hell this whole spanking thing came from.

"Find out?" The response is puzzled, Sam's frown trying to focus, to think.

"The local murders, remember? You went out to research, yeah? Did you find out anything at the library?" Dean watches his brother's face, sees the flicker of _oh yeah right_ before Sam looks away, shaking his head.

"Nope, nothing, no connection so far. Hey, I'm gonna take a shower. You eat yet?" When Dean shakes his head 'no', Sam heads to the bathroom, tossing the words over his shoulder, "Give me ten and we can go to a diner or something."

Dean stares at the closed door; Sam wasn't even walking funny, not stiff or anything and sure seems like Sam can handle a hard spanking and then act normal, natural.

Lot different than when he was a kid and Dean would lay into his ass, his Dad gone more often than not and it had been up to _Dean_ to correct the kid, to pound his backside into next week and make Sammy mind but every time he did it, yanking Sam over his lap, pants down around his ankles, and blistering his naked bottom red hot, his brother had always acted like Dean was killing him, sobbing and carrying on from the first smack. But _now_…

Well…Dean knows how much Sam can take, how high his pain level is so it'll be different now.

Dean gets up and starts pacing, stops and stares a hole in the bathroom door, paces again, hemming and hawing before he digs in his heels and hardens his jaw, decision made.

Marches to the bathroom and opens the door, the room just starting to steam up and without a word, he reaches out, yanks the shower curtain to one side-

Sam's got shampoo suds in his hair, his eyes closed against the soap and his back to Dean-

And fuck, his _ass._

It's a dark, pulsing scarlet, bruises and welts cut deep into the skin and Sam is twisting away, throwing himself backward even as he's frantically wiping the soap out of his eyes, trying to keep his dick facing Dean as he works to hide his blistered rear end.

"What the fuck, Dean?! Get the hell out of here - can't I have some goddamn privacy, man?!" Sam's pissed off angry, swiping at the bubbles rolling down his face, glaring at Dean, his body stiff with shame because he knows Dean saw everything-

Dean doesn't think, just steps into the shower fully clothed and spins Sam around to face the wall before he can stop himself, his palm sliding over his brother's abused bottom, the flesh pulsing sore, and grunts it out because the words are gonna hurt both of them, "Is this what you need to feel good, Sammy? What the fuck you doing here, man? And why the hell didn't you tell me? I'm your _brother_ and I love you. I could've…shit, I could've _helped._"

Sam goes dead still, his body trembling and he's shaking his head in denial, not gonna admit a thing, "What-what are you talking about?"

Like his ass isn't fourteen shades of frigging red, like its normal for his skin to be swollen and striped raw with goddamn _marks_-

Like this is a casual conversation instead of life-changing shit.

Dean presses in close, his voice a rough whisper, the hum of the shower almost drowning him out, "I'm talking about you needing to get your ass beat in every fucking town we've ever been in, Sammy. I _saw_ the videos. I saw your face and now, I'm seeing your ass looking like fucking hamburger meat so you tell me, do we really need to be playing this innocent game here?"

He swallows hard when he hears the sob twist out of Sam's throat, doesn't want to hurt him, wants to help because Sammy is his brother-

The words are heart-wrenched, shocked and afraid, humiliation in every caught breath, "You-you looked at stuff on my computer? Went into my personal…? Fuck, man, you-you had no right, no freaking right to do that to me. _Jesus_…Jesus Christ, I've gotta-"

And Sam turns, face bright red with shame and he can't meet Dean's eyes, can't move fast enough as he shoves Dean aside and rushes blindly past-

Dean's one step behind, twisting off the water and giving chase, not gonna let his baby brother cut and run, nope, he's gonna know all of it, right the fuck now.

But, Sam's going inward, the whine a low growl in his throat, mortification in every stiff muscle as he yanks on a t-shirt, the cloth clinging like a second skin because he's still sopping wet, and Sam's trying to curl in on himself, hide with every fiber of his being, his head bowed in disgrace, wet hair dripping and shoulders hunched up around his ears, eyes dull and broken, can't even look at Dean-

Manages to squeeze his wet legs into his jeans and then Sam's stuffing clothes into his duffle, ignoring Dean, grabbing two guns and a knife, holy water and his computer before he's dashing for the door-

But Dean bee-lines in, dives past him and gets there first, splaying his body in front of it, an immovable force as he hardens his eyes, grits down on his jaw and lets the hunter in him flow through, his words absolute, determined. "You're not going anywhere, Sammy. We need to talk."

##

It's two hours later and he's wrung every bit of crap out of Sam he can, gotten all of it, and this has been going on since their Dad died.

Sam tries to explain it, the loss of control that's eaten away at him, unable to protect his family, to save the world, hell, unable to stop himself from becoming the evil son of a bitch everyone says he is- that person that's gonna probably _end_ the world, and he just needs to feel _something_-

The pain feeds him, brings him to his breaking point and when he finally does give, does crumble under the agony of it, the ache cleanses him, free his soul so he can fucking _think_ again.

Dean leans back, his thoughts flying in a hundred directions, doesn't understand the core of it, probably never will but he gets most of it, gets that Sammy needs it and that's all that matters to him.

He pops open another beer, hands it to Sam, who looks…relieved mostly, at peace, with himself but really freaked out at the same time, because he doesn't know what Dean's gonna do-

His blue-green eyes are huge with questions, searching Dean's for answers, looking for hatred, for rejection but it ain't happening.

Dean loves Sam, more than life, always has and this? It's just something else Dean has to take care of, because his brother needs it, like food and spending money and Dean can do this, step up to the plate and be what Sam needs. It's his job, always has been, to be brother, mother and father to the kid, to take care of his little brother even when he didn't want taking care of.

Like now.

He takes a swig from his own can, swipes a hand across the foam coating his upper lip and lays it on the line, plain speaking so his brother gets it, "You ain't doing this again, Sammy. It's not safe and I can't let you, you know that, right? So you and me are gonna have an understanding. You need this, what, every week, every day?"

Sam jerks, twitches with errant nerves and blinks at him, his flushed face still shell-shocked from being exposed and he whispers into the air between them, still can't quite manage to meet Dean's searching eyes full on, "Yes, I, uh, um…" Gives a deep sob of realization, of acceptance and admits it, cowering inside himself in humiliation, "Every few days, I guess…can't-can't _help_ it, wish I could, don't want to be this way, Dean and I'm so fucking sorry!"

"No, it's-" Dean cuts him off, shakes his head, doesn't mean it like _that_, doesn't care _why_, just needs to know what he's gotta do and he's nodding, working out a plan, "Okay, let me…I just gotta stock up on some stuff and then you and me got a date, every night we can. I'm gonna take care of you, make sure you get what you need so you can stop these freaking hook-ups. And no more videos, Sam. What we do is private, between us, because you need it and no one else needs to fucking know about this. We clear?"

Sam gapes at him like he doesn't believe what Dean's offering, eyes bulging at his words before he's shifting uncomfortably, the blush of his cheeks speaking volumes as Sam shakes his head, denies his wants, his needs, "No, Dean, It's-I can't, okay? I mean, what the fuck are we talking about here? You're going to spank me? Like you used to when I was a kid? That's not what I need, Dean, it's…_different_ and you wouldn't understand. No offense, but if you can't understand it, then you have no freaking idea what I really need or how to give it to me so it's kinda…I mean, I'm sorry that you _know_, wish you'da just let me have this and stay hidden, but yeah, I get it….you're my big brother and you love me, but you can't stop me from doing this. This is my choice, my decision and I'll make sure I'm safe, man. You don't need to worry about me. I-I take care of what I need and it has nothing to do with the hunt or us as brothers. It's private. Personal."

Dean stands up, towering over Sam and puts his hands on his hips, takes his stand with a scowl of possession, "No, it's_ you _that doesn't understand, Sammy. No one else is gonna do you like that again. _Ever_. The only one who's gonna beat your ass from now on is _me _and the sooner you accept that, the better."

Dean reaches down, gets a hand under Sam's arm and pulls up, letting his eyes sweep up and down the tall length of his brother, calculating speed, trajectory and how fast his brother can move if he doesn't accept this- "Up, Sam."

The flush in Sam's eyes is sharp and hungry, and he obeys before he even thinks about it, immediately getting to his feet and dropping his eyes, head down in submission and fuck-

It's about the hottest freaking thing Dean's ever seen his brother do.

His hands are shoved deep into his pockets, he can't look up, can't meet his brother's eyes and he's ripe for this, the need shimmering through him, surrounding him and Sam's trying to hide it, the need for submission, the absolute ceding to authority and he works back his shoulders, takes a breath of courage, before breathing out in disdain "Come on, Dean, really?"

But he hears the desperation underneath, the sheer want to be done with this, to finally find what he needs and not crave more-

"Shut it, Sam." And Dean reaches out, pulls his unresisting brother to him, unbuttoning Sam's jeans, unzipping, talking the whole time, explaining what's going to happen, "They've been doing it wrong, you know. All those times you been paddled, it's not fixing anything, is it? Sure the hell not giving you what you need, not completely, because it doesn't make the guilt go away – it just pushes it back for a little while. And when you break, it's not…all of it, not all of you, nope, you just touch the surface and you need more, Sam. So much fucking more to feel clean, don't you? I saw it in your face, during the last spanking, you were just…resigned to it, like it was all you could get so you had to be satisfied with it."

Dean pushes down his pants, staring up into Sam's eyes the whole time as he mutters, "I'm right, aren't I?"

And he sees the twitch, the fire that flares bright in his brother's gaze, even as Sam's eyes drop, the flush that washes over his face an embarrassed huff of shame and nope, that's not gonna happen. His Sammy isn't gonna be ashamed of anything, not anymore, Dean's gonna make sure of it.

Dean's got Sam's jeans pushed to his knees and is tugging his underwear down around each thigh, baring his ass to the air, "You feel like you need to atone, to make up for shit that you've done or failed to do and maybe it's true and maybe it isn't but if this is what you need to get rid of it, forgive yourself, then okay, but you don't need to get your ass beat senseless by strangers who don't give a fuck whether you live or die. This kinda shit needs to be taken care of by _family, _by me because I know you, see into your heart and I love you fucking anyway, no matter what."

"Dean." Sam's voice is a guttural moan, almost a sob as he hangs his head, lets his hair cover him, uses it as a curtain to hide from his brother, grits out the words even as his hands are reaching down, trying to pull his pants back up and cover himself, "You can't _do_ this…fuck, you just don't _know_ how hard it is, how much it fucking hurts, knowing everything I've-and just trying to get through it, trying to just goddamn bear it but this-can't, it won't help, nothing helps, nothing's ever gonna help-"

And he goes to shove past Dean, yanking at his pants and Dean moves fast, has to because his little brother's as strong as an ox and a badass hunter to boot and if Dean doesn't take him by surprise, Sammy's gonna get away and this moment will be lost.

Grabs Sam behind the neck, grips fierce enough to hurt and he jerks hard, spinning them around and landing on the bed, pulling Sammy down with him and before Sam can even yelp, Dean's got him ass up over one knee, swinging one leg over the backs of Sam's knees and holding him in a tight clench, his arm a heavy slam onto the small of Sam's back-

##

_Holy shit!_

Sam tries to fight, he really does but he can't fucking move! Dean's got his legs in a vise grip, his arm on Sam's back like an iron weight and his head's almost touching the floor, long hair dragging across the dirty carpet as his hands splat down, trying to stop his forward momentum.

Can't believe his brother's doing this, any of this-

Already had his ass beat today and what the fuck is Dean doing?! He hasn't spanked him since Sam was twelve and he's too fucking old for this now. He's taller than Dean and just as strong and Dean can't be doing this!

It brings him to life, shakes him out of his submissive fugue and he starts struggling, reaching back and shoving against Dean's shoulder, trying to twist himself and throw his body off, pushing against Dean's thigh with his other hand, digging in, trying to hurt, "Let go of me, asshole! What the hell, man? You can't _do_ this, not-not gonna let you-"

Dean gives a hard jerk, yanking him back into position like he weighs nothing and he lands hard on Dean's thigh, the thud catching under his ribs, gasping because his breath just got punched out of his gut and he tries to holler it but he's got no wind so all that comes out is a scared whimper, "Please, Dean-you gotta let me up-"

Dean's voice is a deep growl, his deadly hunter voice and Sam knows he's in deep shit here-

"But I _can _do this, Sammy and I'm gonna do this. Gonna give you what you need, right the fuck now and you _will not_ go anywhere else for this from now on. Do you understand me?"

"Dean-" He's desperate, can't take another disappointment, his ass is already sore and he can't get his hopes up…can't-

SMACK!

The slap is sharp and unforgiving and he sucks in a surprised breath, goes dead still and he knows Dean's handprint is blooming across his left ass cheek, can't believe Dean really just hit him.

CRACK!

"OW!" It's another hard slap and it fucking _hurts!_

WHACK! SMACK!

"OWWW! OW! Shit, Dean, fucking stop-!" He's gasping from the sting of it because his brother has a fucking rock hard hand that's whaling into him with full force-

Dean chuckles darkly, "Oh, come on! I saw you take a shit load more than this without even a whimper and now you're acting like I'm killing you here. We're just gettin' started, Sammy so you best just settle in and get comfy-"

"Stop hitting so goddamn hard, Dean!" He shoots a dirty look over his shoulder at his brother, trying to give him a death glare but Dean grins at him and raises his hand high in the air-

TWHACK!

"AAAAAHHHH! MOTHERFUCKER! _Fuck!_" Sam can't even believe how much it hurts! He can stand a lot of pain but this-this is magnified, Technicolor and he's never had this before from a spanking, doesn't understand why he's yelping, doesn't understand any of this.

"Jeez, Sam, come on!" Dean lands another smack, driving him forward with the force of it, "Now you're just being a baby."

And Dean's right, it's like he's twelve years old again, getting punished across his brother's lap for talking back or giving attitude. Dean always could bring him to tears with just a few well-placed slaps, a few heart-wrenching words and just the knowledge that he'd hurt Dean, that he'd disappointed Dean, was enough to make him sob out his apologies and beg for forgiveness.

He tries to bluff it off, but the tears are already swelling his throat, hates the whine of his voice, "I already been strapped today, man, had enough and don't need this on top of that. It's too much, Dean, my ass is sore as shit and this ain't helping me, jerk!"

"We'll see what helps and what doesn't." Dean's voice is determined, grim and he's gonna see this through no matter what Sam says.

And he moves quick, starts spanking hard and fast, lightening cracks to Sam's throbbing backside and fuck, Dean's _pounding_ on him, covering every inch of skin, not even letting him catch a breath in between swats, and Sam's legs are kicking without his consent, thrashing wild as he tries to throw himself off Dean's lap, wiggle himself to the floor but he _can't_ get away, can't get loose and _goddamn it!_

His rear end's gone from a dull throb to spiking hot lava in a matter of seconds, a fiery pulse that bites and screams through his brain and it's too much, too fast and Dean needs to just fucking _stop_!

Sam's sucking in harsh breaths, holding himself board-stiff to try to take it, his body a taut rope, muscles clenched tight and he can't even cry out, it hurts so much, his breath hammered out of him with each slam of Dean's hand.

The fire in his backside is scorching through his mind, and he tries to buck himself off, tries to get free, he really does but he can't goddamn _move! _

His concentration is tunnel vision, focused on relieving the vicious pain in his ass and that means not budging, not flinching or wriggling or-

Something's building up inside his gut, leaping and jumping towards an unknown conclusion and he doesn't understand what's happening, his vision goes gray, his mind clings to the pain, and all that matters is just _this_, his aching, throbbing bottom, his brutal spanking and his stupid brother's punishing hand, taking him farther than Sam's ever had before, exceeding his pain limits, and pushing his mind into acquiesce, into compliance-

And holy hell, it feeds him, fills him-

And is so fucking wrong, Sammy can't deal with it. He shouldn't want this, he shouldn't! He should be hating Dean for doing this to him, for invading his privacy and putting him in this position, where he's just got to _take_ this from his fucking _stupidassmacho _possessive big brother and it's not fair!

Dean's got a death grip on his waist, legs scissor-locked around his and Sam doesn't even realize he's clenching his ass cheeks together, dancing his hips back and forth in a chaotic figure eight, and trying every other trick to make it harder to hit a moving target but Dean's aim is dead on, the blistering slaps are savage cracks, cutting through the air like pops of lightening, pulling yelps from Sam as easy as breathing, and he hears himself, the wounded animal noises falling out of his throat and he can't stop it, any of it-

He's mortified because he _feels_ the tears move from his throat to the backs of his eyes, happens so fucking _fast _and he _never _cries during one of these sessions, never. Sure he sobs, wails, shouts, and hollers but cry? Bawl like his heart is breaking, with real tears rolling down his face, and his nose a snot-filled mess?

Never.

So what the fuck?

But he knows why, deep in his heart. He knows exactly why he's two seconds away from weeping. Because it's his big brother doing this to him and it's his approval Sam craves above all else and it's Dean who he's let down the most. Knows he could take this spanking easy if it was anybody else but Dean giving it to him.

And each swat to his flaming bottom cuts into his heart, tears him open a little bit more with each swing and Sam can feel his control crumbling, scattering into little pieces and he needs Dean to stop this now, right now, because he's gonna start blubbering any second.

But his brother won't stop, keeps laying into him and it's a fucking fireball back there now, his nerves snapping and snarling under his skin and he starts begging, another chink in his armor breaking away, because any second now, he's gonna- "D-Dean, please, you gotta, OWWWWW, you gotta stop, AHHH, shit! OUCH! Damn it! PLEASE, Dean, can't take any more! Don't do this, please don't do this, gonna, gonna…Fuck, please! Don't make me, please don't make me-"

Dean finally stops and Sam collapses forward, so fucking grateful he didn't break that he's mumbling out his gratitude, sure he can fix this by himself, find a way to fill his own stupid needs and still save face in front of Dean.

But Dean's fumbling behind him, he hears the tinkle of metal and the whisper slide of something before it snaps in the air and Sam connects it, what that sound is and what Dean's fucking doing above him, he's doubling up the belt he's just pulled out of his jeans, and _goddamn it!_

And he can't take the belt now, he just can't! His ass is so fucking _sore_ and his control is frayed down to a thin strand and-

SMACK! WHACK!

"OOOOWWWWWW!" He hears the scream rip from his throat, the two burning welts criss-crossed on his flesh too much and that's it-

He bursts into tears, collapses down over his brother's lap and sobs like a baby, can't even speak with all his blubbering and he doesn't even know that Dean's stopped hitting, that he's staring down at Sam in satisfaction-

He feels the palm rub across his roasted skin, a gentle and soft caress that makes him cry harder-

And it's like floodgates have opened, he can't stop, each wracking sob shuddering through his body and he's got no strength left, knows he should be embarrassed that he's ass up over his brother's thighs, bawling like an idiot but he can't bring himself to care right now. Everything's coming out along with his tears, his anger at his Dad's death, his fury at himself for being a fuck-up and hurting Dean, his rage at the evil inside him that's always there, always eating at him and he hates, oh, fuck, does he hate-

Himself, this world, this fucking life-

The only thing he loves is Dean-

And that thought slows his wild sobs, lets his throat relax so he can breathe and he's able to swallow again, talk again-

He reaches up, wipes his nose on his sleeve and manages to croak out, "Fuck, Dean, I'm so _sorry_, so goddamn sorry, never meant to hurt you or let you down, wanted to be just like you, just like my big brother, and shit! I'm such a fuck-up and I always disappoint you and I'm sorry for that, c-can't fix it, any of it because it's too little, too late and Christ, I'm….sorry, man, just so sorry…"

And it's freeing, the guilt that's dragged him down for months breaking open, the mountain of it that laid heavy in his gut is now loose, crumbling at his core and he begs Dean for forgiveness, begs Dean for his love-

"Christ, Dean, need you, need this, so fucking _bad_-" He can barely understand himself, his words garbled and caught in his throat but he thinks Dean knows, thinks he gets what Sam is trying to say-

And it's the voice from his childhood, soothing after a harsh spanking that breaks him more, crashes down the last brick of his walls, "Shhh, It's okay, Sammy. Over and done with now. Clean slate and you just need to let it go, let it all go, gonna be just fine-"

Realizes his legs are free and he wuffles out another shuddering breath before hitching himself off Dean's lap and sliding to the floor, staring up at his brother, knows he's a mess, his face red and tear streaked, snot running out of his nose and his eyes puffy from crying but it doesn't matter, none of it matters because he needs his big brother's arms around him, needs the safety and the warmth of his hug.

Throws himself into Dean and hangs on tight, huffing out his sadness and his fear of losing his brother into the sweet-smelling skin of Dean's neck, muttering more apologies into the curve under his ear and Dean's arms slide around him close and easy, pull him in and hug tight.

"You never were a fuck-up, Sammy. You just got dealt a raw deal is all-" Dean's words are whispered against his hair, grip tightening in protection, love in every breath, "And ain't none of this shit your fault, you hear? Gonna be okay now. I got ya and we'll get through this together, like we always do."

Sam's nodding, mumbling agreement into Dean's skin because he needs to believe his brother so badly, needs to know he's not evil, he's not insane and that Dean still loves him. God, he needs to know that most of all, that he still has his brother's unerring love 'cause if he still has that, he can get through anything.

Knows he must look ridiculous, shirt hanging off his strong shoulders with his pants around his knees, his dark red ass sticking out under the flannel but he doesn't care, he's right where he belongs, in Dean's arms and it works, his hug…just like it did when they were kids, it makes everything alright again.

And he's light as air, can breathe easy finally, the weight that he's carried with him for months, hell, for years, lifted off his shoulders and he can suck in a cleansing breath, wants to laugh and cry at the same time because he's so fucking grateful to Dean for doing this to him, for giving him this release.

Realizes that something is jabbed into his chest and he moves, tries to get away from it but it's still there, pressing in and he pulls back, looks down-

And it's Dean's _dick_, rock hard and tenting his jeans and he doesn't understand-why does Dean have a hard-on now? His brother just spanked his ass and there's certainly nothing sexual about-

The light bulb dings and the shock freezes him in place, never knew Dean got turned on by spanking him and what the hell? Why is he aroused by beating on Sam's ass, by causing him pain? Dean's always looked out for him, gone out of his way to protect him, to take Sam's pain as his own and now this? Betrayal shoots through his gut, mixed with disgust and nausea and he jacks up his head fast, stares into Dean's eyes and he sees it there as well, a dark fire burning, sees it on the tongue that slides over his full lips and suddenly, his shoulders are gripped tight-

Because Dean read his face and he knows that Sam knows.

"Sammy, it isn't what you-" He begins, his voice hesitant, unsure.

"You sure, Dean? Because I think it's exactly what I'm thinking. Have you always gotten a fucking hard-on when you spank me? 'Cause I gotta tell you, man, that's some pretty twisted fucked up shit right there." Sam can barely keep the stunned hurt from his voice, "Shit! I _trusted_ you! When we were kids, I knew if you spanked me that I deserved it, that I needed it to teach me right from wrong. But seems like you were just doing it for the hell of it, to get yourself a boner so you could jack off later thinking about me screaming in pain! Holy fuck, you-you sick, son of a-"

"That's enough." Dean's harsh voice is black steel, cutting through his tirade and he drops his arms, clenching his fists as he leans away from Sam, snapping out between clenched teeth, "And you'd better think twice about the next words outta your mouth, Sam, because I'm about two seconds away from blistering your ass again!"

He splutters, can't even believe Dean's threatening him with that and the nasty just keeps pouring out of his mouth, spewing hate and distrust, "What, you ain't turned on enough yet to come? Need to get a little more of beating me to get you there? Wait, you want me to jack you off after you use your belt on me? Maybe a blow-job? Hell, Dean, wouldn't want you to not get a chance to blow your load, right? Go ahead, do it! Spank me some more! I'll rub your dick real good while you're pounding on me and-"

He's jerked upright and thrown back over Dean's lap so fast, it crashes his breath out of his lungs and before he can fight, before he can yell, Dean's got his belt in hand and is whaling on him hard and fast, stinging lashes cutting across his throbbing bottom, slashing back and forth across each cheek and Sam's suddenly _in it,_ fucking in the middle of the worst whipping Dean's ever given him and he's swearing at his brother, kicking his legs and hollering at the top of his lungs-

"Ahhhhhhh! Dean! Stop! OWWWW! Goddamn it, STOP! You son of a BITCH! Let go of meOWWWWW!" And he's thrashing, throwing himself back and forth but Dean's got him in a grip of iron and he's roasting his ass good.

"I told you, you little shit, to shut the fuck up and now I'm gonna make you shut up! I don't get a fucking hard-on when I'm spanking you, asshole! I got it when I was watching your damn tapes, watching you take your spanking and struggling not to make a sound and yeah, I thought it was hot, okay? Still do! You're so strong and you were fighting so _hard_ and watching you break was a beautiful fucking thing. That's what I was thinking of when I was holding you, jerk! But I sure the hell don't do _this _to get my rocks off. When I beat your ass, Sam, it's because you deserve every fucking lick! I don't get off on causing you pain and I can't even believe you'd ever think that! I protected you my whole goddamn life, jerk, made sure you always _had_ even when I didn't and you don't Get. To. Fucking. Think. That. About. ME! You Understand?"

The last bit is punctuated by sharp wallops to the soft insides of his tender thighs and he's screaming with the burn, thrashing at the fiery pain that's shooting through his body and begging for Dean to stop, tears rolling down his face, can't stop goddamn crying to save his life "OWWWW! Goddamn IT! YES, I understand, I understand! Please, AHHHHH, NO MORE! No more, Dean, _pleeaasseeeee!_"

And his brother stops pounding, dumps Sam unceremoniously to the floor and stands up, Dean sidestepping around him and walking away, throwing an furious "_Ass_hole!" over his shoulder as he goes, rethreading his belt with vicious hands and huffing chest.

Sam stays where he is, a crumpled heap, his backside screaming at him from where he's sitting on it and he sucks in a harsh breath, moans low in his throat and rolls to his knees, managing to crawl up to standing on shaky legs and he's pulling up his pants up carefully over his sizzling rear-end, hissing at the burn and the weight of his jeans.

Okay, so maybe he misjudged Dean. And maybe he knows about _that _kind of turn on because he's been turned on like that, too, watching other people's spanking videos. And it gives him a thrill in his belly, knowing that Dean had felt that way about watching his. He's always had a secret crush on his brother, never even occurred to him to _act _on it, it was just Dean and love and lust, always together in his mind, jumbled with thoughts of safe and home.

Seems maybe Dean feels that way right back and that Sam can work with. Just knowing his brother wasn't turned on by spanking him helps him to push back his hair, make his painful way over to where Dean is standing, looking out the window with both hands shoved into pockets and bump his brother's shoulder, saying quietly, his breath hitching and breaking "I-I'm sorry for what I said, Dean. I was wrong."

Dean won't look at him, "You sure the hell were."

He bumps again, ducking his head in and breathing out the words softly, "Hey, where's my after-spanking cuddle, man? You always give me one, no matter what. Right after you say 'all done now, Sammy, clean slate.' I _always_ get that from you Dean, and right now, I really need it and I need you to forgive me. Please Dean, I-I'm sorry."

Sam stares at Dean, begging with his eyes and he sees the closed-off frown relax and loosen as Dean grouses and huffs, finally reaching out an arm to drag Sam in, to pull him close and wrap his other arm around him, muttering, "Bitch."

Sam smiles and settles into the warm arms, nuzzles in, safe and loved, "Thanks, Dean."

They stand there for a long while, Dean stroking down Sam's back, soothing him, stopping at his waist before running his hand back up again.

And Sam's holding his breath, willing Dean's hand to go down a little further because his ass is really throbbing and he sure could use a nice rub down.

He finally reaches back when Dean's hand sweeps down again, grabs his brother's fingers and drags down, settling them deliberately over one hurting ass cheek.

Dean goes rigid, unmoving, blinking up at him warily and Sam stares back, knows Dean's gonna yank his hand away in one more second, so he utters the one word he knows will work, "Please…"

Dean scowls at him, "Thought I was a sick fuck, Sam. Isn't that what you said?"

"Thought you were getting off on giving me pain. Now I know what got you turned on and it…it turns me on, too, watching shit like that. And well…_you_." He inhales a cleansing breath, breathes it out in a rush because this is it, gonna reveal his heart and he could lose everything right now but it's all that matters to him in the world and just knowing what he could _get_ gives him courage.

He forces out the hushed words, his throat clenched tight, "It's you, Dean. You turn me on more than anything else. Always have. Never thought I could have it so I never asked."

Dean's gaze clears, the sharp green eyes drifting over his face and down to his mouth as he says softly, "You asking?"

Sam shrugs, tries for casual but his bravado is gone, his heart slamming hard in his chest and he's scared as hell, would rather face twenty monsters with only his fists than have his brother refuse him, maybe look at him with disgust, with pity but he's _in_ it now, gotta see it through, "Yeah. Yeah, I guess I'm asking."

Dean's eyes are back on his, studying him but now there's fire there, the lights in them flickering, sputtering and then coming to life, burning bright and he's so goddamn beautiful that Sam can't breathe with looking at him-

Dean's voice is hoarse, rough with emotions that Sam can't read but the words make his heart skip a beat, "Never could say no to those damn big eyes."

And the jerk to his hips is fast, unexpected and he's gasping, brain pinging with shock, with heat because he's suddenly rucked up tight against Dean, chest to chest, hard cock on hard cock and fuck, the _feel _of him, it's perfect, hot length against his own and the hands move from Sam's hips to his ass in record time, cupping his stinging bottom tight, holding him _right there_ and he can't move, not even a breath of air between them.

"Dean-" It's all he can manage to gasp out as his body turns weak, boneless, and molds itself up against his brother's, hips curving in to get more of Dean's dick on his.

"Shhh, Sammy. Let's not talk the frigging thing to death – not when there's so much else to do" And Dean's mouth is right there, on his, a soft press and then another, gentle kisses, quick and playful and he relaxes, his lips parting a little more with each touch of that sinful mouth until he's kissing back eagerly, meeting Dean halfway, impatient and hungry for more.

The taste is sweet and pure, beer and Dean, a dark mix of honey that swirls in his head, it's shadows and limbs, twisted in a murky dance and his cock lengthens more from the hidden frantic shimmer that's working up his spine, it's a fragment, a bite of lust that touches and wans, and it's the damn _flavor _of his brother, succulent and fleeting, that's turning Sam's knees to water.

Then Dean slips his tongue inside of Sam's mouth.

And _Holy fuck!_

The first touch is a hot jab to his gut, fireworks behind his eyes and he's shaking, trembling out of control, wasn't ready for the fierce blaze that's sweeping through him, overwhelming him and his dick gives a throb of delight, settles into a delicious ache in his balls as his fists catch and cling to Dean's shirt without thought, holding onto his brother for dear life, as the life is kissed out of him, into him and he's falling, falling so fucking fast his head can't keep up.

He's spiraling inward, lost in his brother's taste, in his sweet tongue, in the rushes that rack through his body as Dean owns him, takes his mouth, takes everything that Sam is and leaves him helpless, pathetic and so fucking hungry for more he can't deal.

Dean breaks the kiss and draws back, Sam chasing his mouth because he's lost without the sinful flavor of Dean filling him.

His brother makes a strangled whimper deep in his throat, staring at him almost fearfully, eyes stunned and shaken, looking just like Sam feels and Dean reaches up, touches his fingers to his own mouth and sucks in a quivering breath, "Jesus Christ, Sammy, n-never felt that with just a kiss before, it's like my skin's burning up, and I can't fucking breathe-"

Sam nods, because he's right there, too and he's got no spit, his body tense and shivering, aching for more of Dean's mouth, for more of Dean's tongue and he's not above begging, he's _not_, because he needs so freaking bad.

He gives a pull where his fingers are sunk into Dean's cotton t-shirt, twisting at the fabric, "_Please-"_

And Dean lets himself be pulled, right into Sam's space as he stares at Sam's mouth with a ravenous need, the words wrenched from him, his voice hoarse, reverent and awed, "Please, what, Sammy? What do you want from me? I'll-anything, Sam, you know that, anything you want, whatever you need, it's-I'm there for you, man, you just gotta ask-"

His words stumble over each other in their haste because if he doesn't have more of that mouth right now, he's gonna start sobbing, his need is so strong, "Want-want you to kiss me again. Want more of your taste, your touch, want to feel your fucking hands all _over _me_-_"

And Dean's mouth is right there, his tongue diving in, possessing, stealing away Sam's breath and he's shivering with desire, weak as a kitten, pliable and easy under Dean's firm handling, opening up for his brother without thought, his lips stretched taut, the fingers clutched in his long hair jerking him back, holding him in place.

And Dean is stripping him of every ounce of control, of every stubbornness, every streak of guilt, dancing around Sam's tongue like flame on a match until he's lost, his brain fuzzy and slow, and he can't take anymore, it's too much, like he's dying, deliciously slow and easy.

Doesn't even realize he's being moved until he feels the soft mattress against the backs of his knees and when Dean gives a slight push, he goes down willingly, his brother following him, a warm weight landing, covering him, keeping him _right there_, no escape in sight.

Agony flairs in his backside because the pressure of the bed against his well-spanked ass is too much and he moans, tries to roll off to get relief.

"Hurts? Mmmm, let me help you get your mind off that." Dean's hauling him up onto the bed so they're flat out, legs tangled together as his hands circle and caress, slipping under Sam's shirt and trailing a hot path over his tummy, up along his ribs and coming to rest on each nipple, thumb and forefingers pinching and pulling at him and _fuck_!

Damn, his nipples have always been a huge turn-on for him and how the fuck did Dean know that?

"Off." Dean breaks the kiss just long enough to tug at Sam's shirt, green eyes locked on his and Sam obliges, yanking his flannel and t-shirt off in one swoop and tossing it to the side. Dean's fingers are at his jeans now, unbuttoning and unzipping and he lifts up, lets his brother pull off his pants before settling back down with a groan.

Once his legs are free, Dean moves fast, hands like iron around his hips, gives him a jerk and he's pulled onto his belly, precious breath stolen for a moment as Sam gasps out, throws a look over his shoulder, doesn't know what Dean wants from him.

But hands are stroking his burnt bottom, gentle rubs that soothe and calm and when Dean bends his head, starts licking and kissing at his scorched skin, Sam almost cries out with it, so in love with his brother he can't deal-

Used to Dean being gruff with him, taking care of him in his matter of fact, curt way but this-

Dean _caressing_, Dean _loving _on him, it stutters away every smart ass remark Sam's ever snarked at his brother and all he wants to do now is open his arms and let Dean have him, every piece, every inch-

He wants his brother to own his soul.

His legs are eased apart and Dean's lifting him up, pulling back on his hips until he's on hands and knees, ass tipped pertly like he's ready to be mounted, and he blushes, can't believe he's letting Dean see him like this.

Feels movement behind him and his legs are spread wider, the downward pull on his hips confusing him and he looks underneath, wants to see what the fuck Dean's _doing_.

With a cry, he feels a soft wet heat engulf his dick and it's Dean's _mouth,_ for Christ's sake, his brother's underneath him, on his back, and sucking Sam's dick down like he's a starving man.

And damn, Dean's tongue is sweet heaven, the fast hand jerking him off is sudden, almost rough but it's freaking Eden down there once Dean gets a rhythm going and Sam's bounding towards orgasm at break neck speed, too much, too fast, swears his brains are getting sucked out of his dick by this brother's incredible mouth.

Dean moans softly, like he's gutted, like Sam's precious wine he's wanted to drink from his whole life and a hand settles over one throbbing ass cheek, clenches hard into his hot flesh, controlling Sam's movements with it by pulling him forward and back, ebb and flow-

Swallowing Sam down, humming low in his throat, the purr of it making Sam shiver weakly as Dean deep throats him, takes him all in, hot wet mouth buried in his kinky base hair and Sam's lost, blubbering and pleading out nonsense words, can't even fucking get a coherent thought in his head other than _Dean yes more now._

Getting the mother of all blow jobs from his older brother.

The pain in his backside, the digging in of hot fingers into his whipped flesh, it's sweet agony when mixed with the suckling going on in his dick and desire clutches tight at his balls, twitches them and draws them up.

Gonna blow soon, he can feel it, the flood of orgasm sliding up his legs, down his back and it shimmers there, keeps him on the edge as he spreads his legs wider, plants his knees and starts thrusting wild, Dean's mouth a perfect 'O', opening up and letting him plunder and it's swift, harsh, hits like a freaking freight train, whistle screaming in the night.

"Oh, God, OHHHH GOD! Dean, gonna come-gonna come right now! FUCK!" Sam shouts it into the air, tries to tug away from the suction going on down below but his brother is a stubborn son of a bitch and stays his course, his mouth like glue on Sam's cock and one more pull, one more head bob and that's it, all she wrote-

"_Oh, Jesusfuck-_!" It's a wail, desperate and frantic as it rolls through, biggest freaking orgasm he's ever had, the delicious shocks consuming him, rocking Sam's body like a tidal wave and he's bearing down, trembling as his dick explodes, pumping heavy and dirty into Dean's sucking mouth and shit! Now Dean's gonna be disgusted and hate him and Sam should have been able to hold back and _control _it, goddamn it!

But hearing Dean's throaty "Mmmmm", and the fast swallows currently sucking him down, taking all of Sam's come, along with the pleased noises his brother's making, like he's eating manna from heaven, tells Sam a different story.

The tone soothes and relaxes him and Sam lets go, loses himself in the delight of it, in the thrill. Rocks his hips into that sweet warmth of Dean's mouth and gives the last few dregs he's got, feeling the throaty caress, squeezing him like Dean's begging for more.

"Shit, Dean-!" It wheezes out of Sam's chest, gasping into the air as he tries to catch his breath, and he's weak as a kitten, holding himself up with care and trying not to drop his whole weight onto Dean's face.

Dean releases him, after giving a couple of licks to the tip of his dick which earns another clutch of orgasm, another dribble of come and Sam's shivering, tingling _everywhere_-

Dean's hands are on his hips now, urging him backward and Sam's knees are shaking as he pushes himself up onto them. He's staring down into his brother's smug grin and twinkling eyes, can't believe Dean just did this, got Sam off like that and gave him the best freaking blow job he's ever had and the love, the warmth of Dean curls around him like a comforting blanket. It's home and perfect, all he's ever wanted right here splayed out beneath him on the bed.

Dean scoots up and reaches for him, cuffing Sam behind the back of the neck and dragging him back down, so he's laying half on his brother and half on the bed, spread out naked and wanting, only dimly realizing that Dean's still completely dressed.

A fact that's gonna be rectified damn soon if Sam has anything to say about it.

But before he can move or think, his mouth is taken in a fierce kiss, Dean's tongue rough and dominating, his own taste being pushed back into his mouth and he moans at that, moans again when he's flipped onto his side, Dean pulling Sam's legs up so they're around Dean's jean-covered hips and he grinds his hard dick into Sam's spent one, his hands sliding up and down Sam's quivering skin.

"Want you, Sammy. Want you so bad, just don't want to hurt you, need to take things slow, make sure you're okay." Dean's kissing him in between words, his hands tightening on Sam's still burning bottom, pulling him close and Sam feels a ghosting of a finger, sliding in between his butt cheeks, gentle tickling at his puckered entrance.

He pulls his mouth away with a whimper, panting as he locks eyes with his brother, gasping out the only words he's got right now, "Damn, Dean…"

Green eyes glitter lust into his and the deep voice snakes through his brain, dark, smoky trails, so fucking sexy, Sam's lost with it, in Dean's low mutter and raised eyebrow as he presses into Sam's hole with his fingertip, "This okay, Sammy?"

And the nickname, the tender touch and the intimate look are too much, swirl together in his mind and tug at his yearning heart, clench at his throat with the proof of Dean's love and all he can do is sob, managing to spit out the words, "God, _y-yes…please!"_

And that's all the encouragement Dean needs because fingers are tapping at Sam's lips, bidding him to open and he does, can't do anything but what Dean wants and there are two thick fingers sliding over Sam's tongue. He moans, sucks at them to get them slippery wet and then Dean's back downstairs before he can make more pitiful sounds, rubbing circles around Sam's trembling hole, pressing in and loosening him up with the soft movement, taking his time until he pauses, stares deep into Sam's eyes and plunges two fingers in.

Earning another gasp from Sam because it's weird, not painful, exactly, just _different_, kind of burny and when Dean pulls out and thrusts back in, it catches at Sam's gut, tingles there and that feels pretty damn _good-_

It's friction, with the tickle of a promise of more-

Deeper now, the fingers behind him are stretching with each push, searching for something and Sam arches back into the touch, closing his eyes and mumbling nonsense words, because the scorch is building up inside him, stiffening his dick and all he wants to do is grind down to get more of that delicious rubbing that's filling his brain, making him steamy-

Realizes Dean's muttering too but he's too involved in his own ass to understand the words he's hearing, his brother driven, focused, "Come on, where _are _you?"

And _holy fuck_!

He jerks back, staring at Dean in shock because his brother hit _something _inside of him-

That burst a sweetness through his belly, almost made him come again – like instantly, no slow build, no gasping breath, nope, it was a mouth-watering sizzle, flaming hot lava that streaked through his gut and had him seeing stars.

And the "Unnnngggghhhhh…." That breaks hoarsely from his throat is embarrassing, uncontrollable as he grinds back onto Dean's fingers, needs more of that rub, of that electric blaze across his nerve endings-

Dean chuckles and bends towards him. stealing another kiss, moaning against Sam's mouth, "Yeah, there it is….God, Sammy, you feel so good against me."

Because he's been rubbing at Sam, his hips circling and pressing up against Sam's dick with his own, the rough denim stiff enough to exert some nice chafing and when Dean rubs up against that spot inside Sam's ass again, causes the sharp ping that arches his back, pebbles his nipples and Jesus Christ, that's freaking awesome-

He can't hold it back, it's too much-

Too much Dean, too much stimulation, too much of those damn fingers driving him crazy with the itch inside of him and Sam's climbing fast, hitting the mountaintop and flying over the other side, diving fast and before he knows it, before he can stop it, he's coming, all over the front of Dean's jeans, coming so fucking hard it steals his breath and leaves him a shivering wreck, collapsed down and too weak to do more than moan and gasp pathetically.

The voice is reverent, awed, "God, Sammy, so sweet when you come, so fucking beautiful, love watching you, feeling you, this, so freaking hot!"

Dean's fingers slip out, his hands clench around his brother's still-stinging ass cheeks and he's bucking and rutting against Sam's spent dick faster now, trying to get himself off-

Sam's panting, slow to recover but trying to shake off his orgasm and focus his frigging head because he wants-he _wants_-

With a burst of words, he finally gets his mouth working again, almost coherent, and he's pushing at Dean, hands grabbing his brother's hips and wrestling him down, trying to stop him from creaming in his jeans so Sam can get his mouth down there, "Wait Dean wait! Need to…want to taste you, want you to-in my mouth, wanna get you off with my tongue, with my lips, want to drink you down and make you crazy for me…"

##

Dean's upstairs brain kicks in slow, hears Sam talking but he's climbing up the mountainside, the hum in his dick a delicious shiver as he works himself against Sam and it's incredible, fantastic, because it's his Sammy, the love of his life and fuck, he can't believe he's here, now, right where he's wanted to be since he was a teenager-

Never would have admitted it, _never _– woulda taken it to the grave but when Sam wanted…when Sam let it loose, let it free and _asked_ him for it, well, all bets were off and there was no fucking way he could deny, could refuse.

Couldn't say the words, not then, because he was so freaking scared of losing his brother that all he could do was kiss, was touch and love on Sammy, try to _show _how he felt.

God, he loves his brother.

And now, Sam's words finally penetrate, and he gets it, what Sam wants from him and it just about unravels him right there, because his brother wants to…

"Oh, hell, yesssss!" And Dean's stops rutting, dragging in great gulps of air to calm his fever, trying to pull back the reins on the fire in his dick as he reaches down to undo his jeans, drag them off his hips with frantic hands while Sam does the same to Dean's shirt, yanking it off his head so fast, it damn near decapitates him and he'd complain but Sammy's laughing, the joy on his face so fucking beautiful, it hurts Dean to look at him.

_Fuck,_ he loves his brother.

Sam's hand is there, his big fricking hand with those long slender fingers, and it's squeezing his dick now, working his balls through his underwear and _fuck, yeah, that feels nice_-

Feels the rip against his skin as Sam yanks down his skivvies, baring him completely and there's a fleeting moment of blushing shyness because he's wide open and naked, dripping and wanting and it's Sam's who's _seeing_ him, seeing his cock, now an angry red from being denied release, seeing his naked body that isn't anywhere near as muscular and beautiful as his brother's.

But the pure sweet love in his brother's eyes, the warm heat that swirls around him from the look of lust in Sam's gaze, lights him up from the inside out and leaves him with a fire in his gut and passion in his heart and he can't do anything else but lay back, spread his legs and invite Sam in.

With a soft cry, his brother falls, blankets him, sweet warmth, and the next thing he feels is the wet hot of Sam's mouth, surrounding him in delicious heat, the suctioning pull hard and punishing, like Sam wants to yank his soul out of his balls-

The sinful tongue is dancing over him, making his dick ache for more and he can't even believe his little brother can give head like this, like a fucking pro, turning Dean from a badass hunter to a whimpering, sniveling mess of _needwantfuck _in a few seconds.

And the wave of orgasm that ebbed is now flooding through with abandon, sweeping over him and dragging him up, higher than he's ever been before, leaving him shivering in snowy peaks of the highest mountain, as he rocks into that sweet mouth that's slowly, beautifully drowning him.

Barely notices he's got his fingers buried in Sam's long hair, gripping hard enough to hurt but Sam's not pulling away, nope, instead, he's making yummy sounds in his mouth, like Dean's exotic candy and Sam can't get enough of the offered samples-

The fingers sliding in his ass are a surprise, his yelp of awareness a garbled moan, and the push against his prostate is pure heaven, an electric sizzle that jolts up his spine and all he can do is hold on as his brother plays him, a helpless instrument, trembling at the rushes of arousal that rack through his body from Sam's mouth, Sam's tongue and his freaking fingers on that _spot _that are driving Dean crazy-

Sam drops and yields, the rhythm punishing and thorough and Dean can't take it, it's too much, _his _Sammy, making him feel so freaking fine, it's everything, like Utopia, Eden, and Shangri-La, all rolled into one delicious ball and it still wouldn't be as perfect, as wonderful as this is right here-

The plunge and suck, honey ebb and flow and his dick is so _fucking_ hard and aroused, pulsing like it's got its own heartbeat, gonna goddamn blow at any second and he tries to warn his brother, tries to stop his headlong fall into the abyss, "Sammy-wait, you gotta-I'm gonna-"

Half-heartedly pushes at the demanding mouth but he's too far gone, lost in his Sammy, lost in the rushes of orgasm and he hits it, the top of the wave, the crest-

Lets it roll over his shivering body and he's shouting, voice ripping at his vocal chords, muscles rigid with tension, holds for one more second on the beautiful edge of forever and that's it-

"_Jesusfuck, Jesusfuck!"_ Dean's exploding, dick clenching hard and he's shooting wild into Sam's sucking mouth and damn if his brother doesn't spit, doesn't look disgusted, nope, instead Sammy's making a strangled noise in his throat as he swallows it down, sounds like…pleasure.

Sam's moaning, almost purring as he drinks and when Dean starts to slow, because his balls are empty and his orgasm is waning, Sam rubs that fucking spot inside again and again, keeping him right there, on the ledge, on the rim and _fuck-_

He can't believe it, but the swirl of pleasure that rocks through him, repeats with mind-blowing frequency from each hit to his prostate is enticing, awakening and Sam is relentless, unapologetic as Dean trembles and twitches beneath him, tries to get away but it feels so damn _good_, he can't work up the effort-

When another almost orgasm quakes through him, catches him by surprise and his dick gives a startled shot of left-over come into Sam's eager mouth and then another, he's stunned, hot all over and so freaking sated, he can't stand it-

"Jesus, Sam…." His voice is cracked hoarse, lips sand-dry as he huffs for breath, trying for normal, for natural, but the truth is Sammy just rocked his world sideways, blew him out of the water and turned his brain to sweet mush-all from his _freaking_ tongue.

In all the women he's had over the years, he's never been brought to orgasm by a finger in his ass and a tongue on his dick, never shot his load so freaking _easy_ and fucking _twice_ in two minutes-

"God, you're so beautiful." It's Sam's voice from down below, reverent, awed, giving a last lick to his spent cock as the long fingers slide out of his ass while his brother's other hand slides ahead, between Dean's legs-

Sam's other hand still is working his spent dick, making him shiver, trying to get the last drops of come from him and Dean can _see _it, the glistening pearl drops that Sam earns, his fist dragging up and down Dean's length and the pink tongue that appears and licks them away is fast and hungry.

But he's got nothing left, his hips jerking with overstimulation, with each pull of Sam's palm cupped around the base of his cock, and he reaches down for his brother, stopping the eager hand-job Sam's laying on him, and stares at his brother is stupefied wonder, unable to draw in a sane breath.

"Fuck, Come 'ere." And something like a sob breaks from his throat, at the sight of Sam's face hovering over his cock with a hungry look and all he can do is yank Sam up, gather him close and kiss his gratitude into his brother's skin, into Sam's mouth, like his life and soul depended on it-

##

They're curled up together, Sam's head on Dean's heart and he's wrapped around his brother like a second skin, rubbing a gentle hand over Dean's belly, watching it hitch under his touch and Dean's stroking up his back, warm fingers playing over his many scars, circling over each in turn like he's trying to heal them, humming softly under his breath-

Breathing together in tandem, becoming one body, one skin-

"I love you, you know."

The words are softly spoken, the caress to his cheek tentative, hopeful and he starts, jerks his eyes up to Dean's in stunned surprise, searching for sarcasm, for the 'girly' taunt he knows is coming.

But there's no deception in Dean's gaze, no glint of humor or hard squint of hurtful teasing, nope, it's pure and sweet, what he sees in Dean's eyes.

And it damn near breaks him, almost shatters his heart because he can't believe Dean really said that to him, without any embarrassment or shame, without any joking or silliness, nope, it's from his heart, unabashed and wide-open.

And the stupid tears that are stinging at his eyes are smearing his vision, fucking with his brain because why the hell does he feel like crying?

He gives a small sob, his throat tight with tears and he can't speak, lost with this, never thought Dean would love him like this, never in a million years dreamed he would ever have this and now that it's here, his for the taking, he's scared it's not real, terrified it's gonna be snatched away and he'll wake up and realize it was all in his imagination.

But Dean reads him like an open book, swipes a gentle thumb over one of his eyes, wiping away the dewy tear before he pulls Sam close, hugs him tight enough to suffocate-

"It's real, Sammy. _I'm_ real and I'm here and we're not losing this, you hear? I don't care if it's wrong, I don't care if we're not supposed to. We're doing this." Dean pushes back Sam's bangs, searching and finding his mouth for a soft kiss before pulling back, unsure suddenly, "Unless…you don't want to? Shit, Sam, if you don't want to, you gotta tell me and we'll stop, right now. You-you're all that matters and I-I'll do whatever you want."

And Sam finally finds his words, blurts it out loudly like it's the answer to everything, "I love you, too. Always have. Always will. Want this-want you." And he stares up at Dean in wonder, repeating it before pulling his brother's mouth back down on his, "All my life, with all my heart, love you."

He sees the glow of love in Dean's eyes just before that delicious mouth swallows him down, opens him up and takes his tongue rough, circling and sucking until Sam can't freaking breathe-

##

And when he wakes, it's with Dean's hand massaging his ass, the rough touch now gentle, soothing and he arches into it, loves it when his brother protects him, takes care of him and he can't help it, has to tell-

"Can't even believe how many times, how many fucking people I had spank me and it ended up being _you_-what I needed, to help me, to take away the freaking guilt that's been weighing me down for years. It's-fuck, Dean, never had anyone else able to make me bawl like a baby, never had a spanking where I couldn't hold back yelling, where I couldn't stop my own reactions-Jesus-" And he shakes his head, overwhelmed at how much Dean's spanking helped him, fixed his brokenness-

The sharp slap of Dean's palm on his ass cheek has him rearing up, snapping his head back to lock eyes on Dean-

His brother's dead serious, the green eyes glittering with determination, "You are never doing that with anyone else again, Sam, you hear me? The only one who's gonna be breaking you is _me_ and we're not gonna wait until it builds up and takes you over again, nope, you and me, we got a date, every three days, gonna paddle you, whip you, belt you…gonna do whatever the fuck I have to. Gonna break you, make you cry and gonna make you admit that it's not your fault, that you're not evil and that you fucking deserve all of the love and adoration I've got in me. It's yours, Sam, it's waiting for you and you know what?"

Sam's mouth is bone-dry and he can't believe Dean's gonna help him, gonna get rid of the guilt so he doesn't ever have to feel like he wants to die again, "What?"

"Eventually, you're not gonna need this from me. You're gonna realize that you're a good man, a loving and kind man, and I'm gonna be _right there_, holding you, loving you, and telling you over and over again that I love you, until you get it." And then Dean's humor kicks in, "Dude, you are never getting rid of me so are you fucking ready for _that_?"

And he gives a soft sob, the peace enveloping him, curling through his chest with hungry demands, wants to take him over, wants to get him there, now, right now, so he's the man Dean thinks he is-

And all he can do is whisper out his need, hug Dean in closer, lost in his brother, lost in the love that's blanketing him, wrapping around him like a warm rug, "I-oh, fuck, Dean…_bring it_ man, bring it."

And he falls into his brother's mouth like it's a promise, a dawn of a new day because it is-

It's everything.

####

-End-


End file.
